The Tunnel
by Misgiving Writer
Summary: She should have listened to her sister. Snowlight was always right, after all. When she told her not to go back to the tunnel, Rainpatch should have listened. Now, it's too late.


A/N: This was written for _Waterstar13_'s _One Shot Mayhem Challenge_ for the Warriors Challenge Forum (link in my profile), in which I was given the wonderful genre of horror. And, seeing as I'm not very familiar with writing that genre, I went ahead and used a PoV that I'm not very familiar with either. Everyone, let me know what you think!

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It's cold here. And wet. Nothing like my den back in Thunderclan, where my sister is no doubt waiting for me to return. Snowlight is such a sweet cat. I know that it will take a long time for her to crack and tell anyone that I left the camp last night. Even longer for her to tell our clan-mates all that she knows.

About the set of caves that I found in the far corner of our forest, far past the border of any of our clans.

About the fact that every night, for the past three moons, I have slipped away and gone to visit them. To explore them, each time going in just a little further. Just a little deeper.

About how I've started to change - and while Snowlight may not have said anything to me about it, that doesn't me I haven't noticed. It is my mind that's different now, after all. And she's my sister. My only living kin in the camp. I _know_ when she's upset. When something's wrong with her. And, now, I know that I am the problem.

It's in the small things. In the look she gives me when I refuse to share my prey with Russetfern. In the surprise in hr voice after I yell at her - for what? Something she did? Something she said? I can't even remember anymore. What I do remember is how betrayeled she sounded when she asked me what was more important. Her safety in the ranks of Thunderclan, or the labyrinth of tunnels that I have found.

_I can't help it, Snowlight, there's just something about it here. I walk into the group of rocks and it leads me deep, deep, down into the earth itself. The air gets colder with every step. Thicker. More damp. And it's just thrilling to me!_

Tonight is no different. I left my camp what seems like only moments ago and sped through the undergrowth of the forest. The brambles tug at my silver fur but I pay them no mind. Why should I? Nothing hurts when I get into the cave. In fact, I rarely feel anything at all.

It normally takes a good portion of the night to cross into the rocky terrain that marks the entrance. Tonight though, the wind itself seems to be aiding me and I get there in only moments. I use my tail to brush away the covering of dried ferns that I put into the opening each night - and I have to pause, like I always do, and stare in wonder at the sight that meets me.

The hole is no larger than two fox-lengths wide and two tail-length long. It's a flat tunnel unlike anything that I've ever seen before, lined with smooth stone on all sides and a grey that is almost black. A burst of ice-like air hits me as I start in. It sends a chill through my pelt and makes it feel as though I'm crossing the lake in Leaf-bare.

And something is different. I don't know what, but I can feel it. In the air. In the way that, no matter how far down I go, the tunnel never drops off. It's supposed to drop off after just a few fox-lengths and let me into the cavernous area that I love to explore. But it just goes on and on and on, getting smaller with every step I take.

"This isn't right!" I tell myself, and my voice echoes off of the smooth stone. Distorts as it tries to find a way out of the hole. Just like me.

I try to stop, to turn around, but I find that I can't. My paws are being forced onwards now, and I am forced to go deeper into this horrid place. This place with no stars and no wind and no light.

As I make my way down, I am forced to crouch. Then to drop to my stomach and crawl. My white-tipped ears rake across the top of the tunnel. The white hair on my belly is matted and pulled. The pads of my paws ache - both from the cold of the stone and the fact that I must have been moving long enough to cross all the way to the lake and back without stopping.

Suddenly, I can't move. It is too small of a fit to go foreward. My body won't let me back up. In fact, it won't let me do anything. Not speak. Not move. Not escape. In that moment, terror siezes me. I try to thrash and get away, to knock off whatever invisible force is pinning me to the ground, but all it does is make my legs ache.

I am still struggling to get loose when I hear it. Soft at first, like the wind rustling through leaves in New-leaf. Then louder, closer. I think it might be whispering but I'm not certain. All I know is that I don't like it. That the very sound makes the silver fur along my spine stand on edge and freezes my heart cold. It makes me want to run, back to Thunderclan and to the familiar nursury where I was raised, where I always knew that nothing would ever get me. But, again, moving does nothing and the noise just gets louder. Then it gets angrier.

'Help me!' I want to yowl, but my mouth isn't working and nothing comes out but a strangled gasp for air.

The whispering reaches a crescendo, as though whatever is making it is right beside me, whispering it into my ear, and then something cold and wet and _painful_ latches onto my throat and starts pullingpullingpulling - and in my mind's eye, I can see my kind and caring sister. The light dances across her pure white pelt and she turns her blind eyes on me. Her voice is filled with worry. She's asking, no, she's begging me.

_Don't go back there, Rainpatch, it's not a good place. Starclan doesn't know what it is exactly, but they know that it isn't safe for us. Please, for me and for the rest of the clan, don't let whatever lives there free!_

I wish that I had listened to her.


End file.
